My Family
by ReaderinthePNW
Summary: Their thoughts as DG, Wyatt, and Jeb are leaving the O.Z.
1. Wyatt

A/N—I haven't been able to find any kind of reliable time-line in terms of ages and so on for our characters, so I'm just going with our actors' birth ages and running with it. The only actors whose ages I couldn't get were Rachel Pattee, who plays the young DG, (I'm banking on the idea that she's about 7 years old), and the boy who plays young Jeb. So that taken into consideration, here's a rundown of their ages, and the resultant time-line—

In 2007, the actors who played our beloved characters were:

DG (Zooey Daschanel)—27

Cain (Neal McDonough)—41

Glitch (Alan Cumming)—42

Azkadelia (Kathleen Robertson)—33

Young Azkadelia (Alexia Fast)—14

Jeb (Andrew Francis)—22

So, according to the birth ages of the actors—DG released the Witch when she was 7 and Az was 14. DG returned to the O.Z. 20 years later (at the age of 27).

If Cain was 41 when she came back, then he was 21 when she left. If Jeb was 22 when Cain was 41, then Cain was 19 when Jeb was born. Let's assume that Jeb was 9 when Cain was imprisoned, that means that DG is 3 years older than Jeb, and Cain was 28 when he was imprisoned. So when DG 'died,' Jeb was 4—when Jeb was 9, DG was 12, and had been 'dead' for 5 years. So Cain was locked in the suit for 15 years.

That's my time-line for ages and plot in the O.Z. This makes DG a little older than she seemed to be in the mini-series, and in fanon, she's usually written as early 20s. I prefer her a little older, I think that it makes her character (motivations, actions, etc.) more genuine. Ditto with Jeb… 22 and a Rebel Leader is a little more plausible than 17 and a Rebel Leader. Not much, but more.

So, sorry for this incredibly extensive author's note, but I wanted everyone to be able to see my age and time referencing clearly—not that they're going to be all that relevant to this fic. Maybe in later stories it will be more pertinent, but in the meantime, I thought that it would be useful both for myself, and other readers/authors out there.

And now back to our regularly scheduled program:

* * *

Cain swung the heavy duffel bag into the back of the old truck, breathing hard. Apparently, not even DG, a paragon among women, could travel light. _Oh, come on. She traveled around the O.Z. with nothing but the clothes on her back and a new tattoo. _He leaned against the bumper, waiting for her _to_ come out of the palace, eager to leave. He saw her slim figure exit the rear kitchen door, wearing a simple cotton dress that was a far cry from the silk and satin of her station.

Even from a hundred yards away, he could tell that her walk was tense, although he saw that she was carefully walking slowly, trying to make herself seem unhurried, unexceptionable. As she drew near, he gave her a thin-lipped smile, and a polite nod.

"Ready to go, Princess?"

"If you're ever going to start calling my by my name, _Wyatt_, now's the time." She smirked at him, and climbed into the cab. She favored Jeb, in the passenger seat, with a friendly smile as she pulled on the lap-belt, and winked at Cain as he got into the driver's seat on her other side. She was practically glowing with hope and happiness.

Jeb tapped her arm to get her attention.

"Is the glamour on all of us? Covering the truck, too?"

She nodded. "And I can do that Jedi mind-trick when we get to the gate, and they'll just think that we're a delivery van." Jeb and Wyatt ignored the Otherside reference, used to glossing over them. _Soon enough_, thought Wyatt, resigned and intrigued at the same time.

Wyatt watched his princess from the corner of his eye. She really was incandescent. He felt himself soaking up her radiance. He was still a little numb, even now, and she pierced that with her light, made him remember to shake it off, to feel alive again. Jeb, too, made him feel again. With the two of them, with his family, he remembered that he did in fact have a heart, one that was quite passionate, and violently possessive. When he gave it a thought. Or when it was jolted into beating.

Once they were on the road, Cain felt himself starting to relax, marginally. They would drive until dark, and then hide on the edge of the Papay fields. DG's presence would be enough to keep them safe, and she'd cast a shielding charm for extra protection.

He felt more than heard Jeb and DG murmuring about different Otherside customs. He should be paying attention, taking this opportunity to get some last minute cramming in on an alien culture before he found himself catapulted into it head first, but he found that he needed this time to think. He was leaving the O.Z., where he'd spent all of his life, and starting over, somewhere else.

He didn't think that he would miss much. There was nothing left for him here; he was taking everything that he valued with him. Everything that he had once loved had been destroyed annuals before, when he had been locked into that metal suit. He had had to start rebuilding his heart from scratch, had to find and build his own family, nearly new.

The tragedy of spending years in a metal suit, watching his first family tortured over and over, wasn't that he had to relive the experience. No, the real tragedy was in becoming numb to the pain. At first, he had re-lived every moment of the projection as it had happened to him. After a while, he found that he had nothing to keep him from insanity; he had gone mad for awhile. But like all things, it too had passed. When there is no time, no sunlight, no food… madness will only keep you entertained for so long. And then there was nothing. He could try to distract himself with memories, but even the happy memories, so greedily hoarded and gloated over that he had worn the edges off of them, even the happy memories ceased to pierce the numbness that had settled over him.

He remembered watching DG as she had attacked the projection of the Longcoats, and then gone about freeing him. His mind and his eyes had clutched at the newness, the fire, the pain of her. For the first time in annuals, he had something to see that wasn't the projection. He remembered clinging to the dim and dusty goal of revenge in the face of the legion of emotions that had threatened to overwhelm him after centuries of feeling nothing. He had to stay focused.

"Heart's got nothing to do with it," he'd told her. He'd lied, though. Beneath layers and layers of numbness, the numbness that allowed him to function, there was a heart. And she'd kept jolting it. Over and over again. Eventually, he'd spent more time feeling something, anything, everything, because of her, and then because of Jeb, than he'd spent feeling numb. Hell, being reunited with Jeb was more than a jolt. It was more like being dumped in a freezing lake… not that he hadn't done that, either.

He answered Jeb and DG in monosyllables, too involved in his own thoughts to contribute to theirs. They'd only looked at each other in understanding, before falling silent. After a bit, Wyatt found DG's head pillowed on his arm, her neck crooked uncomfortably. He leaned over and wrapped his arm around her, allowing her to rest across his shoulder and chest. Jeb, who was half asleep against his door, had winked cheekily at him, and grinned, mouthing something unintelligible. Wyatt rolled his eyes, pleased that his son was so relaxed, and discomfited at the boy's—no, the man's—too keen perception, knowing that his mind was always at work behind those clear brown eyes, eyes that reminded him so much of his late wife.

When Jeb had first found Wyatt, they had both been too stunned to see each other to be truly happy. Now… thank Ozma, now he had his son, again. Jeb was a grown man when he and Wyatt had met again, a far cry from the stripling that Wyatt found himself remembering. Wyatt, too, knew that he was a different man than the one that Zero had forced into the suit. He hadn't gotten his little boy back. Jeb hadn't gotten his father back. No, they were far more peers now than they were father and son… but they were family. They'd known it when they'd spent their first tense months getting to know each other again. They were different, they were men who had each been through the fire of war, tempered in different ways, but they knew that they had a home in the other, if they wanted it. Eventually, they had.

Wyatt brought himself out of his internal dialogue as he began to look for a safe place to pull the truck into. He eased a kilometer or so into the orchard, and stayed silent in the truck while DG paced off a circle around it, and waved her glowing white hands.

"You've been pretty silent all day." Jeb was standing next to the cab, stretching before he began to help set up camp.

Wyatt shrugged, pushing his fedora up on his head a bit. "Just getting a bit of closure, son." He started to get ready to build a fire… a small one. No need to advertise their presence. Between the different stories that they'd scattered in all directions, they shouldn't be missed for another week, but there was no reason to behave stupidly.

Eventually, the three found themselves around the small fire, sitting on blankets before they slept for the night. DG was staying up to take the first watch. He stayed awake for a time, just watching her stare off into the darkness, staying alert for him and his son.

The woman was so much more comfortable out here than she'd been in the palace. He could see it in her posture, in the curve of her neck, in the movement of her hands. Wyatt and Jeb had been her bodyguards since the Eclipse, well over a year ago, and he didn't think that either of them had ever seen her so unguarded. Even when she was with her friends alone, she didn't loose that watchfulness. Perhaps it was the opulence of her surroundings. From what she'd said, she'd been raised as a farm girl—not much preparation for becoming a princess inherent in that upbringing. The Cain men knew that… they'd been farm boys, too.

Or maybe it was just that she knew that she was escaping forever the pressures put on her by a family that had never done well by her—escaping the expectations of royalty, of a loveless political marriage, and of gilded prisons.

No, Wyatt was taking his family—his son, who had lost too much, seen too much, too young, and his DG, a girl with all of the love and hope, the girl who embodied _possibility_, and maybe, when they were all healed, maybe his future; he was taking them away from this country where human life was cheap, no matter what woman sat on the throne.


	2. Jeb

_A/N—Regarding my time-line, a very astute reviewer (who unfortunately left an anonymous review that I couldn't respond to) noticed that my timeline is AU, since DG is identified as 20 annuals old, and that Cain is said to be in the iron suit for eight years. Now—at the beginning of the first episode, General Lonot says that DG is "a girl of 20 annuals." So, guess work, since he didn't stop to ask, and I don't think he rummaged around for her wallet. While I can see Zooey being able to pass for 20-ish, I really do think that she looks older. I also think that she acts more maturely than most 20 year olds. And being a major Wyatt/DG fan, the idea of her being 27 instead of 20 when they meet is more appealing to me. Now, I couldn't identify where in the film it said that Cain was in the suit for 8 annuals—but it does say that in the interviews and making-of features on the DVD. If anyone could point to the dialogue in the film, I'd be really grateful. According to my time-line, fifteen annuals works (especially since Toto said that he was in prison for fifteen annuals—they match!)._

_Anyhow, if you have any insights or comments, I'd love to hear them! Also, reviews in general make me so incandescently, radiantly happy! Please leave me one!_

* * *

Jeb dozed lightly against the window. He could never really fall asleep in cars; he'd never had much to do with them, before the Eclipse. As a child, and then as part of the Resistance, they'd mostly used horses, or their own two feet, to get from place to place. Between the wrecking balls that were his father and DG, though, Jeb had decided to do his damnedest. It wasn't working, though. All he could do was close his eyes, and sham.

Really, he sat there and worried. He, his father, and DG were escaping. There was no other word for it. They were sneaking out of the country, out to a place where it would be difficult to find them. If they were caught, they'd be escorted back to Central City at gunpoint, and DG wouldn't ever escape from the mass of 'bodyguards' they would give her. He and his father would probably meet a quiet end somewhere… forced retirement was too much to hope for.

They should be covered for a good week. Their cover story… stories… were that the two men were escorting DG to Finaqua. That Jeb had left after a huge fight with his father, and that DG and Wyatt were going up to Finaqua. That DG was attending a soiree at Finaqua… all the stories led to Finaqua, and if anyone ever caught up to them at Finaqua, there were messages left saying that they'd gone up to the Northern Island to meet with blah, blah, blah. In the meantime, they were _gone_.

DG had been trying to figure out a good cover story for Jeb and his father once they reached the Otherside… she had thought that maybe saying that they came from some remote outpost in Alaska, that didn't have a television or a radio—or a town, really, would be a good cover for not having any pop culture knowledge. Then she thought that maybe they should be refugees escaping from a cult that they'd both been raised in. Jeb had tossed in a few ideas… DG had nodded thoughtfully, and said that they had something similar to homesteading, but she wasn't sure that they could pull off being Amish. Former Amish. Then she had frowned, and said that she'd never heard of anyone being formerly Amish. What followed was an odd conversation about a religious group known for being environmentalists—DG thought. She admitted that she didn't know much. She had brightened. Maybe that _would_ be a good cover story! She'd have to google it when they got there. _Google_? Jeb wasn't sure that he wanted to know. He loved DG as dearly as any sister, she'd been there for him when he'd gone through Hell… but sometimes she was just plain crazy.

As for his father, well, the man hadn't said more than five or six words all day. He had his _I'm-busy-thinking-about-this-so-go-away_ mask on. Jeb wondered if it was supposed to look so skeptical, or if it had to do with what he was thinking. He was laying money on it being unconscious. It was funny, his father had told him once that after so long in the iron suit, he felt frozen, like he couldn't move, couldn't feel. But he came out of that suit more transparent than he ever went into it. Jeb could read every emotion that passed over his father's face—that impassive stare that he used to hide his thoughts only betrayed that he _was_ thinking, now. The differences between the smiles, the smirks, the frowns, the exasperation, the anger, the love, holding back the tears—the I-want-to-give-you-a-hug, the hurt… Jeb could read his father like a book. And the man hugged! Jeb hadn't gone short on hugs from his father when he was young, but he hadn't seen his father be physically affectionate with anyone besides him and his mother. Now the man handed them out to princesses, Headcase-cum-advisors, Viewers… and Ozma knew who else. He was also quite a bit more gun-happy than he'd been before. Very entertaining.

Jeb jerked fully awake with a thud, glaring at his father for the abrupt braking. He rubbed his eyes before getting out the cab, and began setting up camp while DG put up her little shield-thingy. That princess was damned useful to have around. Jeb smiled a trifle grimly as he started finding some bigger pieces of wood for the fire. DG was always useful to have around. When he'd first met her, she'd begun helping with the infirmary, helping plot the attack on the Witch's tower, introducing herself to his people. The girl never rested. Once the Royals had all been reinstated in the palace, DG still hadn't stopped. She ran from magic lessons to counsel meetings to etiquette lessons. He knew that she never slept, because he had been her bodyguard. He'd take his night shift, standing outside of her room, and hear her crying, or pacing, or the sound of a pencil on paper. And here she was… still going. Still making herself useful.

He scooted up closer to her on a log, and tried to teach her how to roast a rabbit over a make-shift spit.

"No, you don't really need to turn it so often."

"But won't it burn?"

"Naw—it'll be fine." Jeb idly poked at the coals, shifting them around with a stick. "So did you never go camping over on the Otherside?"

DG dimpled. "My Robo-parents never really went camping with me, and they didn't let me go camping, either. They did let me pitch a tent in the yard for a few years, though." She started laughing.

"And…" Jeb prodded.

"They wouldn't let me anymore after they found my boyfriend sneaking over."

Jeb started laughing, too. "How old were you?"

"Ummm… I think that I was sixteen or seventeen."

Jeb started laughing harder as he caught his father glaring at the fire. Oh, and the man thought that he was _so_ inscrutable. Jeb wasn't stupid, and he wasn't insensitive. He caught the tension that was there between his father and DG—and he didn't mind it. He knew that his father was still healing, and that DG would never intrude on that… in fact, his father would probably make her wait around a lot longer than either of them deserved.

As they finished eating their meal, DG volunteered to stay up for the first watch. Jeb grabbed his bedroll and scooted to the right. He lay down, and listened to the familiar sounds of a campsite settling down for the night. He could hear his father shifting on his blankets, DG settling against a tree trunk, facing out into the darkness. His own thoughts continued to race.

They were interrupted when DG asked him softly, "Is there anything that you're really going to miss, Jeb? Like muglug or having two suns in the sky, or anything?"

Jeb thought for a minute, but it didn't take him long to answer. "I'm not leaving much here, DG. I'm a family man—just like my dad. I'd rather be with you two than with anyone else, or anything else." He grinned, and added cheekily, "besides, I'm really looking forward to meeting a nice girl of my own from the Otherside. Those jeans of yours are quite nice!"

He laughed out-loud as DG made an amused, indignant sound, and his father chucked a pinecone at him. He laid back down, knowing that there wasn't anything here in the O.Z. that he'd miss, not when he was here with the two people who loved him, that he loved. When you'd spent your life in the Resistance, you became more suspicious at first, but more fully open to love, and loss. And family. And this, this new father, this girl that he'd spent a year guarding, watching, and protecting… these two, they were his family. What matters, what's important, is family. His family.


	3. DG

DG stared out at the trees, looking away from the fire, so that she wouldn't become night-blind. She listened to the rustling of the two Cain men settling into sleep. She heard Jeb's breathing even out quickly, the young man falling asleep quickly. Wyatt stayed awake much longer, she heard him shifting occasionally, leaning over to feed the banked flames, his hands brushing over his coat, the bedroll, the crisp, fallen leaves. Eventually, he too fell asleep.

DG's thoughts ranged over the two men at her side obsessively. Sometimes she didn't know if they really understood how much she needed them. Her life had fallen apart—and these two men had been the only support that she'd had. Her parents were strangers, who didn't care to know the woman that she'd become, only the princess that they envisioned. Her sister was happily wrapped up in Ambrose (_Ambrose?_ Enough said.), and Raw had adopted his orphaned nephew, Kalm, and had returned to his people with him.

DG pushed these thoughts firmly out of her mind. There was no use dwelling on what she was leaving behind—especially when it cared so little that she was leaving it. All day, Wyatt had dwelled on the past, and Jeb was always focusing on the here-and-now… so she was going to focus on the future. It wasn't like it didn't need a lot of thought, anyways.

She didn't know what to expect when they reached the farmhouse. She hoped that the house itself would be alright, but it was possible that it had sustained some damage from the travel storm. She planned on magic-ing up a couple of power-of-attorneys, and selling the farmhouse. If anyone who knew anything about the Otherside came looking for them, like Ahamo, or maybe her Robo-parents, then they would be long gone, in a different city, living under different names.

DG let herself daydream about her new life. The three of them would move somewhere—Jeb had voted for rain, and Wyatt said that he didn't want the desert… DG didn't think that Australia was really a viable option anymore, since she'd mentioned her interrupted plans to her family, once. She had wanted to leave the country before she was blown over to the O.Z., but DG found herself homesick for her home-country. She wanted to watch the Red Sox beat out the Yankees again. She wanted to go into a grocery store and buy a Pepsi. Hell, she wanted to ride her motorcycle again! They'd go to baseball games on the weekends, and eat Chinese take-out. They wouldn't have to act as her bodyguards anymore, although she had no doubt that they'd remain protective. Wyatt had always been so protective—Mmmhmm, nope, turn those thoughts around, think about something else!

Maybe the Pacific Northwest. The coast? She would love to be near the ocean, she'd never visited it before. She pictured the three of them going out to work every morning, and coming home in the evening to eat, watching films, learning about Otherside life—the boys would really need the crash course in pop culture. She could hardly imagine how wonderful it would be to relax, really relax, with people that she loved, with people that she knew loved _her_. She couldn't remember the last time she'd had that—her Robo-parents had, once, but the Witch had had their CPUs erased before the Eclipse, and her biological parents hadn't felt it would be good for her to have such a strong connection to her past—she needed to adjust to her _real life_… A new family, a career determined by an accident of birth, and oh, _by the way_, this noble you should marry since it would _really_ help us balance out the budget for the next ten years.

She felt her eyes getting heavy with tears, and with sleep, her thoughts trying to convert to the dreams—nightmares. She gently shook Jeb's shoulder to wake him for his shift. He yawned sweetly, and rubbed at his eyes, before sitting up and shooing her back to her own bedroll. DG fell asleep immediately, dreaming about cold ocean breezes and riding her motorcycle down lonely winding highways.

She awoke quietly, blinking her eyes up blearily at Wyatt as he gently rubbed his thumb along her jaw. She stared up at him for a moment, and their blue eyes were locked on each other in an electric connection. DG shivered, and Wyatt dropped his hand and stood up. The three of them went about breaking down their camp, eating cold biscuits and left-over stew for breakfast.

Jeb paused in hiding the remnants of last night's fire. "DG, why didn't you want to grab your Robo-parents, bring them with us? They could be programmed to stay loyal to us, you know. I mean, it's not tough, we could have done it. And I know that you really miss them."

DG shifted uneasily, despite her desire to act like the question—the memories that it brought up—didn't bother her. She'd probably have managed with anyone who wasn't him. Or his father, who was giving Jeb a nasty look from his space across the clearing. Jeb ignored it—neither he nor the princess were really known for their subtlety, and the question was pertinent. He waited patiently for her answer, knowing that she'd never just ignore him.

When she did answer, her voice was low. "I don't want to stay with people who love me because they're programmed to. I don't want to stay with people who will do what I want them to because they love me." Her breath hitched. "I know that _I_ didn't want to stay with people who wanted me to do what they wanted because they told me that they loved me."

Jeb nodded, and gave her a one-armed hug, before finishing his task at the fire. They all got into the truck, and headed out of the orchard, Wyatt being careful of the newly-restored trees. They sped down the highway, and they finally came to an open field, next to a big, deep lake. DG smiled grimly—this part was so melodramatic, it reminded her of some ridiculous murder mystery movie. The three of them got out, retrieved their belongings, and Jeb set the truck up so that there was a great big rock on the gas pedal… and the truck drove out and drowned in the lake, and the three of them were standing in the middle of a lonely field in the middle of nowhere, few tracks identifying their presence (the signs would all be gone by this afternoon—rain was on the way).

DG lifted her hands into the air, and called up a travel storm. As the tunnel began to form over them, she thanked God for letting her escape this crazy country with the two men that she loved. They told you that you couldn't choose your family, but DG knew that was a lie—and she was taking them with her and going off into the wild storm with them to prove it.

_

* * *

_

A/N—So, this is the last chapter, one for each family member! I know that I left their circumstances a little vague—I plan on writing a sequel about their life on the Otherside, with some more depth into their reasons for leaving, flashbacks and so on. I hope that you've enjoyed this story, and please, please! please leave me a review, telling me what you thought of it!


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